Sisters Always
by His Living Doll
Summary: They could be nothing more, nothing less. Two-Shot Farroncest.
1. Less

Sisters Always

They could be nothing more, nothing less. Two-Shot Farroncest.

It never felt wrong to her. Even since that day, when she was no longer a daughter, but an orphan, the way her heart and mind reacted never seemed wrong.

It felt so right; it was easy and free and effortless.

She didn't hesitate to say exactly what was on her mind, nor did she ever mask her feelings.

She knew she didn't have to when it came to Claire.

Claire would listen honestly, listen openly, listen carefully.

No wonder she was so suited for military life, the woman never missed a detail.

Not the others.

With the others, she'd always add a little giggle, a quick wave of the hand, no, it really isn't that serious, don't worry, I'm fine.

She was never _that_ hurt, never _that_ afraid, never _that_ nervous around the others; her friends, her classmates.

It was always Claire, always her big sister and her only family, with whom the mask would come off.

Only Claire knew for sure how many times she had cried, because she'd been there to hold her every time.

It was always, always with Claire that she felt safe. Felt comfortable.

It was the older sister whom she trusted completely, and it was only for her that her heart would quicken at her comments, her mind race at her touches, her cheeks flush at her glances.

She would worry a little more when it was Claire getting home late, laugh at little louder at Claire's sarcastic remarks, listen a little closer to her words.

And she knew Claire felt the same.

She knew everything about her sister, just as her sister knew everything about her.

They were really all they had, after all.

Claire depended on her, and she depended on Claire.

And as long as Claire was there for her, she'd be there for Claire.

They were sisters, after all.

Serah Farron smiles softly as her sister leaves their home, a long day of work ahead of her.

The rose-haired girl waits until Claire's footsteps were faint and small, before resting her forearms on the table.

And the little sister cries for the first time without Claire's arms around her.

Because as long as they were sisters, they could never be anything more.


	2. More

Sisters Always

They could be nothing more, nothing less. Two-shot Farroncest.

It was always the mornings that got her.

From the moment she awoke, until her long shifts as a soldier began and blanketed her with sweet distraction, her mind ran rampant with thoughts better kept locked away.

Claire Farron imagined it as if she was holding a roll of the thickest, softest ribbon.

Her grip would tighten the more it threatened to escape, calloused fingers desperate to keep it together.

It would slip away so quickly, as if she didn't just squeeze again to make sure it was still wound tight.

And then, it would unravel for all her to see, to obsess.

A perfect pink ribbon, her younger sister.

The thoughts that could never be breathed, let alone spoken.

All consuming the young woman as she walked along the awakening shoreline of Bodhum.

Claire tried, she honestly tried.

She'd gotten much better at keeping her cheeks from burning when she caught glimpses of Serah in her towel. She was practically a master in keeping her face calm and stoic when they hugged, resisting to hold on a little bit longer.

But the mornings, the long walk in near silence, all that damn time to think thoughts so impure they could make some of her war-hardened superiors blush.

And, to her credit, it wasn't fair that the Bodhum sunrise was the exact same shade as Serah's hair; that certainly didn't help keep the thoughts at bay.

So Claire Farron allowed herself a bit of freedom in those mornings, to daydream and wish for the best, seen as the worst by everyone else.

Sisters could never really be more than family, really.

The soldier sighs deeply, another fantasy starting in her head.

She returns home from work, weary, aching, in need of comfort.

The house in relaxing and cool, there's still hot water for the shower. Dinner is ready whenever she feels like eating. Serah always makes sure to make a little extra, she knew how rough some days could be.

All little domestic touches only the little sister would think to do.

And there she is; wide blue eyes, the same wavy cotton-candy colored hair, a warm smile and open arms.

Serah always knew how to hold her, how to brush back her hair and peck her lips just so to make everything else fade away. In her mind, it was just the two of them, as it had been for so, so long.

Claire lets herself enjoy this ribbon of dreams, until she reaches its snarled end.

Her morning commute has ended, and with it comes distractions, no room for sweet thoughts of her sister. The soldier enters the building, once last thought crossing her mind.

Yes, Serah was her sister. They could never be anything more.

But they would never be anything less.

Claire melts into Lightning as the tough work begins, knowing, taboo "welcome back" kiss or no, she would never come home to an empty house.

It didn't cure the ache, the wanting, but it kept away her loneliness.

And as long as Claire and Serah were sisters, the loneliness would never return.

With that, Claire can rest easy, carry on almost normally, taking solace that they were as close as they ever could be.


End file.
